“WHERE do you live?”
“Ottawa.”
“Is this YOUR car?”
“Yes.”
“WHO’s with you?”
“My wife and my son.”
“What’s the PURPOSE OF YOUR TRIP?”
“Just… taking a drive.”
Damn. Almost a perfect score. Feng was answering without skipping a beat—years of border crossing experience…—but he tripped over the fourth question.
Thou shall not hesitate. Ever.
The border security office paused and stepped forward, his gaze lingering on each of us.
“Taking a drive?”
“Well, yeah… it’s a long weekend in Canada and…”
“So you decided to go for a drive.”
“Right.”
“To the USA.”
“Right.”
“Have a good day.”
Feng started the car and drove away. The three of us burst out laughing as soon as it was safe enough to do so.
“Always a friendly moment, eh?”
“Wait until we come back to Canada…”
“Except this time, it’s gonna be ’WHAT are you BRINGING into CANADA, sir?”
We had nothing to hide, really.
Indeed, we were taking a drive for absolutely no reason—or rather, the decision had been made for a myriad of unbelievably silly reasons. It was a long weekend. We had absolutely nothing to do in Ottawa. Mark had to be picked up from my in-laws in suburbia and the US border is only another 45 minutes away.
The truth is often so mundane that trying to explain or justify facts can create suspicion. I kind of understand how innocent people can dig themselves into a hole—“I was sleeping,” “I was alone at home” and “I was walking the dog” kind of alibi sound almost too straightforward to be true but they most likely are.
“Welcome to New York, the Empire State.”
Great tagline but read the fine print—The Empire State Building is hours away and there’s nothing imperious about this corner of the state. It’s a land of Amish settlements and sleepy towns that don’t particularly epitomize the American Dream but would provide the perfect setting for “Anytown, America” with “Small Town Boredom,” “Small Town Rivalry” and “Town with a Dark Secret” tempting narrative options for a movie script.
We drove through Ogdensburg, home of supermarkets selling exotic crackers and cookie flavours we don’t have in Canada, and we stopped forty-five minutes later in Alexandria Bay.
Alexandria Bay was mostly asleep when we arrived. Baba O’Riley was playing in one of the dive bars on Main Street, actually named James Street. A couple of other pubs could have been described as “busy” because this was apparently where the passengers of “Uncle Sam Boat Tours” had chosen to end the day. The popcorn shop seemed to be popular as well but we skipped it because $6.25 was a bit too much for a flavoured snack bag. The rest of the businesses were mostly souvenir shops selling t-shirts and boating-inspired cottage deco—Stephen King’s Needful Things came to mind although prices didn’t seem to be surprisingly low and I didn’t spot the object of my lifelong dreams.
We walked around the town, went down to the river, and explored the marina. Three churches and many houses with the proverbial white picket fence later and countless American flags later, I asked Mark what he thought of Alexandria Bay.
“It’s… boring,” he replied truthfully.
“It’s only teenage wasteland,” Feng laughed.
“I know it’s boring. But interestingly so,” I added.
Alexandria Bay isn’t my kind of place. Too many churches, pickup trucks, “Trump 2024” and “In God We Trust” around. Too few people and activities, too small of a community, too rural for me. I wouldn’t live there yet I find it fascinating to explore.
It’s always fun to venture outside of your comfort zone. First, it’s a good way to find out what you truly like. I travelled in rural and remote places, and I stayed in small towns. I know this is not where I’d like to live because I gave it a short try—lovely, but not for me. Second, it’s a good way to escape the echo chamber because let’s face it, we are all stuck in one defined by our environment.
So yes, I like exploring places where I’d never live to see how other people live and maybe understand how they see the world. That’s not boring at all and maybe that’s why we crossed the border today… sir.
